Every now and then, I try to clean my room. Usually, this involves cleaning up the obvious mess, like the papers and clothes carelessly scattered around the room because I felt too tired at the time to take 15 seconds to put them away.
After the half-hour I spend cleaning, I usually decide to try to go through a binder filled with papers I felt inclined to keep or a box filled with random things that didn't have any other place. Sometimes, when I'm feeling adventurous, I try to go through a box that I've had and filled since I was 8.
The above venture usually ends with me barely able to throw away anything and just moving my stuff around.
But not today. Today, I succeeded.
Today, I cleaned my room.